


Fit

by deadinderry



Category: Metallica
Genre: kirk/cliff if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-22 09:44:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22147456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadinderry/pseuds/deadinderry
Summary: He wasn’t expecting to walk in and see one of them reading a book, that was all.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	Fit

**Author's Note:**

> i forget where i read it but yes, apparently when kirk was in college briefly before metallica, he was an english major (+psychology, i think), which makes the english major in me pretty happy

He wasn’t expecting to walk in and see one of them reading a book, that was all.

James and Lars were pretty much exactly what he was expecting, based on what they’d acted at when Exodus had hung out with Metallica, but Cliff was something different entirely. Cliff had always seemed—well, nice, but also otherworldly, almost. Intimidating because he was obviously the most talented musician in the room, and tall, and he wasn’t even a jackass. Metallica was a lot less intimidating without Dave Mustaine there running his mouth and making Kirk think that he might get his ass kicked, sure, but Cliff was intimidating in a different way.

And now he was reading a book.

Cliff must have _sensed_ him staring, because he glanced up. “What?”

“Uh—” Kirk said. “What’re you reading?”

“Lovecraft,” Cliff said, stretching out the name with the kind of affection you stretch out a girlfriend’s name with, or something. “You wanna borrow it when I’m done?”

“Dude,” Kirk said. “Lovecraft’s the best.”

“Yeah? Didn’t know anyone else in this band could read.”

“I was an English major,” Kirk said. “Uh. Before I dropped out because of. This.”

“Wow,” Cliff said. He’d been sitting sideways in an armchair with his feet flung over one side, but he sat up and scooted to the side. “Sit.”

Kirk sat, and Cliff hooked an arm around his neck, folded down the page he was on, and set the book down on his lap. “Didn’t mean to like,” Kirk said. “Interrupt.”

Cliff made a dismissive noise and waved a hand. “Should probably get to know you,” he said. “New guitarist and all. Lot different from Dave.”

“Yeah,” Kirk said. “I know Dave.”

“’s right,” Cliff said. He blew out a long breath, his bangs fluttering away from his face, and Kirk was a little amused by how they had pretty much the same haircut, except his hair was curly, since he’d stopped blow-drying it straight every day; shoulder-length, bangs. Cliff seemed perpetually annoyed by his bangs, though, so Kirk wouldn’t be surprised if he let them grow out. Maybe Kirk’d let his grow out, too. “Right. Didn’t the other two assholes invite you out with them?”

“I’m tired,” Kirk said.

Cliff nodded. “I’m kinda surprised Scott or Charlie didn’t hang back with you,” he said. “Scott’s been trying to get his hands on this fucking book since we got out here. Fucking loser.” But Cliff was grinning, a little, when he said it. Kirk hadn’t been around long enough to get to know the Anthrax guys _too_ well, but they seemed chill. Good guys overall, he figured. Less intimidating than a lot of guys in the scene, because they didn’t really seem to give a fuck about image or anything. You had guys like Dave Mustaine, who wouldn’t be caught dead in anything but a uniform of tight jeans and band t-shirt and bullet belt, and you had the Anthrax guys, who did whatever the hell they wanted. It was no wonder Cliff got along so well with them.

“They did invite me, though,” Kirk said. “Well. Lars did. Sort of.”

Lars, already a couple beers in, had grabbed Kirk’s face, pulled him as close as they could get without actually being physically one person, and told him that they were going to go get fucked up and that he should come and get fucked up too so that they could _really_ see what he was like when he was fucked up.

“Yeah?” Cliff said. “I think he’s just happy he’s not the only little one in the band anymore.”

“I’m not that short.”

“Well.”

“Okay, shut up.”

Cliff grinned and knocked his forehead against Kirk’s. He kept it there while he said the next words. “You fit, Hammett. I can tell.”


End file.
